


manatee

by brandywine421



Category: Daredevil (TV), Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Family Feels, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Mentors, Secret Identity Fail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-02 13:51:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19442737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: Brett gave him a long look.  "Why are you so worried about Spider-Man, Jefferson.  Off the record?""He's - off the record, he's - really green.  New," he conceded.  "Sure, those gifs of him busting his ass all over town are funny as hell, but - the criminals are laughing for different reasons.""Huh," Brett said, accepting the bluff."Just wondered where vigilantes get their hand-to-hand lessons, that's all," Jefferson shrugged.*Miles' dad tries to find him a mentor.  They all have regrets.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> IDEK.

  
"You haven't said much about your problematic vigilante lately," Jefferson said carefully. "Have I been talking about the new Spider-Man too much?"

Brett sighed, leaning back in the booth with a distant look toward the main group of cops clustered around the pool tables across the bar. "Nah, just, ain't had much to say. I learned a little more than I wanted and now, don't want to walk it back in front of the guys."

He took a swallow of his beer and made sure to avoid eye contact. "It's not a bad thing to call truce."

Brett snorted. "I guess. What's on your mind, Jeff? You hear something I need to know?"

He waved off the question. "Nah, wouldn't tiptoe around it. Just - wondered who trained your guy, he's got a lot of moves without needing strings."

"That's a question I've never had the chance to ask," Brett admitted. "Don't deal with him directly, fucker's got lawyers that take his calls."

"Oh. I wonder if Spider-Man needs a lawyer," Jefferson asked blankly even if he knew the answer.

Brett was watching him closer now, too close. "Hell's Kitchen doesn't have a friendly protector like Queens, you should be grateful - your EMTs should be grateful."

Jefferson mostly agreed but - there were so many punches to the face that Miles - no not Miles - Spider-Man - could avoid.

"Why are you so worried about Spider-Man, Jefferson. Off the record?"

"He's - off the record, he's - really green. New," he conceded. "Sure, those gifs of him busting his ass all over town are funny as hell, but - the criminals are laughing for different reasons than the rest of us."

"Huh," Brett said, accepting the bluff.

"Just wondered where vigilantes get their hand-to-hand lessons, that's all," Jefferson shrugged. He was pretty sure Brett bought it.

* * *

"Miles. Um. I'd - well, look. If you happen to talk to - the - Spider-Man, can you - see if he's willing to meet me for a talk tonight?"

He knew that his dad knew but he didn't think were allowed to talk about the knowing. "Um."

"A friendly neighborhood chat?" his dad offered, sounding as nervous as Miles felt.

"There is absolutely no reason that I would ever see the guy, but sure, if I run into him, I'll ask?"

"Thanks. Love you, Kid."

He knew it was a trap. He was walking into a total trap - but - it was his dad and they couldn't tiptoe around the subject forever.

It was a trap that his spidey-sense didn't consider dangerous enough to warn him out of. "Sure. Love you too, Dad."

* * *

  
He got distracted avoiding the security guard at the dorm but he's not too late because his dad's standing under a streetlight at the corner street in Hell's Kitchen - just like he said.

He went invisible and creeped down the wall to check the situation but he didn't sense any cops or see any cameras.

God, he was being ridiculous. His dad wouldn't turn him in, this had to be something else.

He decided to face the music and dropped to the sidewalk but caught sight of - oh _snap_ \- Daredevil - in his OG black suit, too - and his instincts buzzed sharp with danger.

"Officer. You wanted a meet and greet?" Daredevil growled at his dad who, to his credit, did not cower. He - he expected it?

"Yes, thanks, Mr. Daredevil. My friend's late, but - "

"No he's not, he's right there," Daredevil replied, turning and looking straight at him.

What the -

Miles meeped when the Devil caught him by the collar and pinned him against the wall. "You can see me?"

"You can see him?" his dad called, still several feet away but not out of reach.

"Why wouldn't I be able to see him?" Daredevil asked. "Wait. Oh no, you're totally invisible," he stated unconvincingly.

Miles and his dad blinked at him. Miles dropped the camouflage, suddenly not scared of the scary man in black.

"Okay, back to your red suit, nice trick?" Daredevil said in a slightly hesitant voice, tilting his head.

"It's not that dark, is it that dark?" his dad asked Miles, towering over them both as he finally joined them.

"Black suit, chameleon trick, come on, man," Daredevil muttered, breaking a phone out of his pocket and storming away. They heard him growling a moment later. " _No - you did not tell me there would be - why - I know but - fine. Whatever. No - I am absolutely not asking him for a selfie because I'm going to be - I hate you."_

Miles glanced at his dad who matched his amused expression without needing a mask.

Daredevil turned back to them, tucking his phone away. He didn't look happy but at least his rage was directed at someone that he could say ‘whatever' to and not end up grounded or in detention.

"What exactly are you expecting with this meeting, Officer and Child with _too much time on his hands_?" Daredevil asked.

"Hey!" Miles protested.

His dad elbowed him. "We were just wondering - where you learned how to fight."

Daredevil considered the question and Miles blinked up at his dad. Was **that** what this meeting was about? 

"My dad taught me the basics when I was a kid," Daredevil replied quietly. "You don't wanna know who taught me the rest."

"Well, what if a dad's kid was more interested in art and music than learning to box? What if the kid's mom would kill the dad for even suggesting it?"

He should be insulted but he's too stunned that this was actually happening. "Officer?"

"It's like you don't remember that you have arms to block your face," his father frowned at him.

"I heal extra fast," Miles replied before he remembered that he was Spider-Man and his dad was an officer of the law.

"All right. This is **not** what I expected and I'm pretty sure it's **not** what our mutual acquaintance expected either, so we're going to forget it ever happened. You'll tell your buddy that I was a total jerk that threatened you with bodily injury for coming on my turf and I'll tell your buddy absolutely _nothing_ because that's what cops deserve."

"Hey!" his father frowned but Daredevil slipped into the shadows. Miles had no choice but to follow his dad when he took off after him.

"Damn," his dad muttered under his breath when they stepped onto an open street.

"Look," Miles said, walking past him to an open door - _**Fogwell's Gym**_. The closed sign looked pretty permanent but there were lights on inside that weren't on when they left the alley. He pushed it open slowly and spotted Daredevil's boots.

His father made a move to go first but Miles was on the job and his spidey-sense was blissfully silent.

" _Get in or get out_ ," Daredevil's voice called from the still dark part of the gym.

* * *

"Okay, this goes against all my self-preservation instincts but my best friend said if I can't trust Spider-Man then I might as well hang up the cowl for good," Daredevil said.

But he wasn't Daredevil - he was a blind dude in great shape.

"You're _completely_ underage which I have a problem with. Who got you into the suit?" the guy asked.

"Spider bite," Miles answered, ignoring his father's startled look.

The guy tilted his head, thoughtful. "That's what happened to the first one, too, right?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Um, are you blind?"

"That's Matt Murdock," his dad said as if that meant something to Miles. "Had an office in the back of Nelson Meats for a while, didn't you?"

Miles loved that deli.

"For a while. Didn't know Fisk had another target - we were handling a whole different angle around here," Murdock replied. "My dad was a boxer that really didn't want his baby boy to fight, but I learned everything I could from him when I still had my sight just by watching."

"Oh, I always thought you were doing fancy karate," Miles blurted out.

"Learned all that ‘after' - without my sight. There are people that take advantage of children with - special enhancements," Murdock said, focusing his attention on Miles' dad.

"How do you know I'm possibly younger than advertised?" Miles asked without giving his dad a chance to speak.

Murdock tapped his ear and his nose. "You had marshmallow chicks - Peeps - for dinner and you have pencil dust from filling out bubble tests on your hands - he had actual chicken for dinner but your clothes were washed by the same woman."

"I support him," his dad said quietly. "I don't know - _details_ and - you said this meeting never happened so - I support Spider-Man and want him to be the best at whatever he chooses to do with his life."

Miles restrained himself from going for a hug but Murdock looked like he'd been sucker-punched. "Thanks, Officer," Miles smiled at his dad.

Murdock let out a frustrated sigh.

He decided to back his father's play even if he was still a little insulted that he got ambushed with the plan. "Okay, so, apparently my dad thinks I need to learn to fight."

" **No** \- defend yourself - not - " his father interrupted.

Murdock whistled, circling a finger in the air. "Ground rules - I don't do child soldiers, or assassins so even if you both are reading painfully Hallmark Channel right now - I need to put it out there. Self-defense for an honor student, I'd still probably refer out - but the special circumstances here, like a favor for the one cop I trust - "

Miles elbowed his dad before he could engage in the fight the guy was trying to pick.

"Means I'm willing to discuss how I can help," Murdock finished. "I can teach him to defend himself, disable opponents without permanent damage - depending on his super-strength - and how to get the hell away from cops. I won't teach him how to use weapons or break any laws that I couldn't plead him out of."

Miles looked up at his dad. "Is that what you wanted when you set up a super-dangerous meeting with the Daredevil?"

His father shifted uncomfortably. "Close enough."

"I'll get my partner to draw up some paperwork, get you an extracurricular credit for helping a blind lawyer after school," Matt told Miles directly. "Don't use me as an alibi without giving me a head's up - I have a day job."

"Really?" An extracurricular would get the guidance counselor off his back about 'making the most of his opportunity'.

Murdock nodded. "I don't know if I'll be able to teach you - if you're an artist you probably learn in a visual way, but we can give it a shot. But your dad sets the boundaries, okay? I'm putting our names on a paper at your school and he's going to sign it as an insurance policy. He can pull the plug at any time."

His father reached for Matt's hand before he fully offered it. "Shake before he takes it back," he told Miles.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Miles was positive Mr. Murdock was going to back out of the deal after he'd wasted an hour trying to convince Miles to punch him. He tried but the guy was fast and he wasn't going to attack him outright. He was so bad at this fighting stuff and even if he hadn't taken any hits to the face, his self-esteem had taken a beating.

"All right, let's take five."

"Sorry, Mr. Murdock."

"It's Matt - if you don't want me to call you 'Kid', then stop calling me *that*," Matt replied with a pronounced frown. "And what are you apologizing for?"

"For being completely awful at fighting?"

"Don't apologize for that, violence is never the answer," Matt replied instantly. Miles stared at him. "Sorry. You know what I mean."

"Um, 'kay."

Matt ran a hand through his hair. "I am so not the guy for this. We should talk."

That sounded more dangerous than boxing right now.

"I lost my sight in an accident when I was nine, lost my Dad a couple of years later and landed in an orphanage. Got it?" Matt asked. Miles nodded, forgetting to say it out loud but Mr. Murdock went on anyway.

"The Sisters couldn't help me the way I needed - seriously, I had zero control over my senses and I missed my dad, just - I was a mess. They hired a mentor, a blind man to help me navigate the world, so I could learn all the things they couldn't teach me."

"Oh. Did it help?" Miles asked.

"Sure, he taught me how to compensate for my new senses - no sight, but I can feel, smell, hear - even taste things that regular people can't. For a while, I thought he was the only friend I had in the world - but he didn't come to help me. He knew my Dad was a fighter, he knew I had - this _anger_ \- " Matt paused, inhaling deeply. "He wanted me to be a warrior - to fight for his cause but - he was never my friend, Miles. He sought out children so he could make them into soldiers, not - "

"My Dad's a cop, I know what grooming is. That's - awful, man, that sucks," Miles knew he was interrupting but he didn't want Matt's voice to fully crack under the story.

"He taught me how to fight, Miles, and he wasn't a kind teacher. I was thirteen years old living in a Catholic orphanage learning how to kill grown men. Someone helped you figure out how to swing around like Spider-Man and you seem to have a pretty solid support system so - I gotta know, Kid. What do you think your father wants me to teach you?"

Oh. "How old are you?"

Matt tilted his head. "30-ish. Why?"

"Because I think all my Dad wants is for me get at least that far," Miles said. "He wants me to make it to 30. Ish."

Matt lowered his head. "Guess the last Spider-Man didn't make it that far. _Damn_ , that's depressing."

Uncle Aaron didn't make it that far, either.

"But it's a start," Matt said, patting him on the arm. "Come back tomorrow and wear the suit, I'm calling in a consult."

* * *

"So, uh, how's it been going? With your new - volunteer job?" Jefferson asked, careful with his wording even if they were alone.

Miles immediately looked away. "Fine, good."

"That doesn't sound fine or good," he replied.

"I haven't been able to - fulfill - all of the assignments."

Huh. "Do I need - "

"No, it's - complicated," Miles said finally. "He had this nun come down because, uh, I haven't been doing well with the ‘hitting about the face' part of boxing and she's - well, she's _intimidating_ \- "

"Wait, he has you beating up nuns?"

Miles laughed. "No, nothing like that. I don't think Double D hangs out with kids a lot and he knows her from the orphanage where he grew up. She used to watch his Dad box and he wanted a chaperone after our first night of failed punching. She called me the Black Spider-Man and he thought she was talking about my skin and not my suit and got offended on my behalf - but then she totally lectured him about how he should know more about his students before he tries to teach them and made me zap him."

"Oh. You can zap?" Jefferson asked when he finally took a moment to breathe.

Miles shrugged, looking away again. "Matt said I'm like a baby taser and wants me to work on my voltage but it knocked him down better than any of my punches."

"Oh. Well, that's something, right?"

"Um. The super-strength might be a thing. I have to use a different heavy bag than Double D so I really don't want to hit him," he confessed. "Even if I could - he's so fast, Dad, it's crazy."

He had to ask. "Was it a bad idea? Do you want - "

"No - I'm learning stuff, just not necessarily what you wanted me to learn, is that okay? I want to keep trying, just, I don't know if I'm meant to be a fighter like him." Miles lowered his voice even though they were alone in the house. "He can hear heartbeats, so he knows that he's not killing anyone - I don't want to hurt anyone, you know? I don't want to hit someone hard enough to have to check."

"What about a robot or an alien?"

Miles groaned. "That's what the nun said before I broke Matt's heavy bag. We're putting off the hand-to-hand until we figure out my limits - Sister Maggie helped him make a lesson plan."

"You don't have to keep doing this because of me, Miles," he said.

Miles shook his head quickly. "No - it was - it is - a good idea. But it was _your_ idea, so I don't want you to be disappointed if I don't end up an MMA fighter."

"That's absolutely not what we signed up for - " he started but Miles was grinning at him. Okay. Slightly less to worry about but - he would take it.

"He wants you to come by in a couple of weeks, in plainclothes and not looking like a cop so you can see if we've made any progress," Miles added. "Not yet, but - "

"You just let me know."

* * *

"Come on, Kid, you had this down last week," Matt said, blinking down at Miles' shape lying at his feet.

"Oh my God, it's like you never had your parents come to a school play or anything - I'm nervous and you're not helping," Miles groaned under his breath as he helped him to his feet in the ring.

Matt brushed him off. "This isn't a recital and you're not getting extra credit for making your dad happy - that guy's so proud of you he'll burst if you do much more," he added, patting his shoulders.

The kid turned and gave his father a sign, maybe a thumb's up. "Sorry, Dad, usually Sister Maggie's yelling instructions at me from your corner."

"We'll talk it through so it doesn't look like I'm just body-slamming your kid over and over," Matt added and he had a wave of relief when the officer laughed softly.

Miles seemed to relax at that and started it off. "This is Plan A - where I have my webs and my Zap and all my powers - health 100%, damage 0%." He turned his back on Matt. "My Spidey-sense *should* pick up on someone behind me, but if not - "

Matt slung his arm around Miles' throat to get a chokehold and prepare to take him down but the kid was back in the game and electricity surged through him and knocked him to the mat with a grunt. Shit, he bit his tongue. "I can release a non-lethal electric shock and disable the direct attacker," Miles continued distantly.

"Are you okay?" Jefferson asked when Matt stayed sprawled on his back to wait for his hair and pulse to settle.

He raised one of his arms. "No electrocution burns and he didn't trip the circuit breaker - but I maintain a punch to the face would be preferable - "

Miles yanked him to his feet. "Sister Maggie says that's because you're a masochist and the general public would disagree."

"She's biased - she loves watching you shock the shit out of me," Matt muttered. "But as long as he's not jumped by a thug with a pacemaker, it'll get him the upper hand."

Jefferson made an approving noise. "He went invisible when you touched him."

"That's part of Plan A - as soon as my attacker is down, I go camo and web all the weapons in the perimeter while I'm swinging high to get the advantage," Miles said.

"Oh, that's why there are so many webs up there," Jefferson hummed.

Matt was pointedly very quiet and very still.

"I got behind on clean-up, I'll get them today," Miles admitted, flushing at being caught.

* * *

"I learned something about your not-friend," Jefferson said, flipping one of the burgers on the grill while the majority of the cookout guests were distracted by the game on the TV.

Brett sighed dramatically. "I was hoping our conversation was a fever dream. What now? Spider-Man's been spotted hanging around the Devil's crime scenes, you know?"

He _didn't_ but he would be following up on it real soon.

"Lay it on me, Jeff."

Murdock gave him permission so he wasn't breaking any of the crisscrossing rules they all seemed to be following. "He doesn't patrol, at least not how you think. He has such good hearing that he doesn't have to. He hears the screams, the cries - that's how he gets to the scene before the cops get the call."

"Mother _fuck_ ," Brett whispered.

"You know who he is, right? He knows the system and a lot of what he hears wouldn't count as evidence in court," Jefferson added.

"I'm processing, but yeah. It makes way too much sense to be bullshit. Does he know that you're outing his secret?"

"You're still the only cop in the city he trusts, Brett, which he reminds me of at _every_ opportunity. Spider-Man told him some of the rumors people have about his powers and he got really testy when he heard people still think he's a demon."

Brett snorted. "Sure, like he's worried about his spotless reputation."

* * *

Spider-Man materialized in front of the patrol car with both hands held up in peace signs. Mahoney didn't have to warn his team to stand down, nobody went for their weapons even if a few people did go for their phones. "Hi, Officers, sorry to interrupt but the building is so **not** secure right now. Double D said to give this to you, _very_ carefully and - "

"And?" Brett asked, _very_ carefully accepting the obvious detonation-switch for a bomb safely wrapped in web. He didn't need to give his men the order to call the bomb squad, radios popped off from half his guys.

"And wait for instructions. No - the bomb squad. Wait for the bomb squad to give instructions."

Jefferson was so right - this Spider-Man was brand fucking new.

"We were following the guys that robbed the electronics store three blocks over, but Double D said it was weird that they only took equipment and didn't take the money - so I helped web up all the bad guys over there while he checked out the inside," Spider-Man continued, gesturing to a dumpster completely sealed over with web.

Daredevil stepped out of the shadows and this time everyone went for their guns but nobody pulled them from the holsters, just hands on grips. The truce would hold.

"There's enough C-4 in there to take out three blocks. You can send the robot there - " Daredevil held out a small framed square. It was a fire exit map with the little red star stating 'you are here' complete with a dotted line to the stairwell.

"You know what they're doing here?" Brett asked, expecting nothing.

"They're local, but not Hell's Kitchen local. It's - "

"I thought you said it was a gang out of Har- " Spider-Man started but Daredevil clamped a hand over his mouth.

"What did we say about telling the police too much?" Daredevil growled.

"Not to engage more than three minutes - so we're both totally failing," Spider-Man said as soon as he was released.

Oh God, Daredevil was actually mentoring this tiny superhero that Brett was _totally not supposed to know_ was his friend's son. Brett's mom would never forgive him - or worse, she'd congratulate him and make him get a picture. He was *never* telling his mom.

"I don't believe it's a federal emergency, Officer, but our time is apparently up," Daredevil said, poking Spider-Man who let out a muted squeak.

One of the rookies fidgeted when the Devil and his new friend - God help them all - faded into the shadows. "Bomb squad's ten minutes out, do you want us to follow them?"

"Truce still holds," Brett said and his men got to work securing the perimeter.

The Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man needed a come to Jesus talk and Jefferson had send him straight to the Devil. 

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blanket disclaimer that I fail at geography, Spanish and life and default to Google for such details. Those little hover things are hard, let me know if they stop working but you *should* be able to hover over the Spanish for the translation.

* * *

Brett stewed over his run in with the Devil and Spider-Kid for a few days before he invited Jefferson out for a beer. He needed three bottles to broach the topic and tell Jefferson that he knew his son was running with a bad crowd.

His friend didn't even deny it, but Jefferson had always been too honest for his own good - it's what made him a good cop and kept him in uniform and never a suit.

"Off the record," Brett said. He didn't know if there was going to be a record left if he kept leaving everything off.

"You weren't at this last fight with Fisk," Jefferson said, wrapping both hands around his beer. "It was like - nothing I can describe, there's a reason cameras couldn't film it - and Spider-Man, the new one, was right in the thick of it - taking hits from that monster and - and that would have been fine, you know? The city gets a new hero that can protect the city from Octopus robots that can bend space and time, that's just fine - "

Brett held his breath.

"But then - I find out it's Miles. **My** kid, **my** son - " Jeff met his gaze. "We signed up for this, Brett - took oaths to protect our city knowing that we might get killed any night, every night - but Miles - he's fifteen. He's never - he's such a good fucking kid. And that kind of battle - there's nothing a cop could've done in that fight - he saved the city, maybe the universe as we know it - my kid. My _son_."

"Shit, Jeff." Kids were A Lot.

"You know Miles, he's never been a rough and tumble kind of kid - do I want him to be Spider-Man? Hell no, but can I do anything about it?" Jefferson asked.

 _Keep him safe._ God, Brett wanted to go back on the record, this was too much. "So sending him to train with the Man in Black was what you came up with?"

"It sounds stupid when you say it but it's working out," Jefferson said with a decisive nod.

"He goes out with him in the Kitchen, Jeff," Brett stated to make sure.

"Ride-alongs," Jefferson said. "He wants Miles to see how the cops, criminals and the victims work in real time. Daredevil gets guns pulled on him all the time - he's definitely got a reputation, or Hell's Kitchen is really just as bad as you always say."

"Probably a mix of both," Brett conceded.

"He's not teaching him to fight. Did it look like he was teaching him to fight?" Jefferson asked.

Brett rolled back through the interactions he'd witnessed. "He didn't let Spider-Man go near the bomb and the only mention of him from the suspects were about his webs taking their guns before the Devil beat the shit out of them."

"Non-violent solutions to violent problems is the way it's put in the lesson plan," Jefferson said. "But bombs weren't on the agenda."

"God, I can't believe I'm saying this but - they were following a group of burglars, I don't think they went looking for it," Brett said.

Jefferson hummed, thoughtful. "Murdock probably sniffed it out. It would be creepy if I didn't know that it doesn't turn off."

That sounded like hell, actually. "No wonder he's nuts."

"Maybe, but Miles has been learning a lot and Matt's been very clear about what he's willing to teach and what's off limits. I wasn't sure at first but - "

Brett raised his beer. "As long as you're on top of it, I'll trust your judgment, Jeff. Miles is a good kid and Murdock will do right by him. Off the record."

"Always," Jefferson clinked his bottle.

* * *

It took a few days for Misty to call him back and Miles was still in the gym after a night of surveillance training - also known as how to tell the difference between fake and real surveillance cameras - when she finally turned up.

He always had a quick meal with the kid before cutting him loose for the dorms so he didn't think it was a problem for him to hang around in the mask while he took the meeting.

"What's all this?" Misty asked, smiling brightly and waving when Miles greeted her from his place in the rafters.

"Spider-Man's a friend, he was around when I got the intel I called you about," Matt said. "How have you been?"

He appreciated that Misty took his bro-hug in lieu of actual words and returned it in kind. "Fine, and you?"

"Better," he said.

"I've been out of town for a while so I don't know what's going on around Hell's Kitchen, let alone home, but I'm here to listen," Misty said.

"We busted up some gangbangers that were stocking up on C-4. So I gotta ask, Misty - why are they gunning for Luke?"

Misty's heart skipped. "Shit."

"So it's true, what I heard? Is he running Harlem the way - "

"You got names?"

Matt frowned. He definitely didn't share names. "No. Answer my question."

She sighed. "I don't know. Not for sure."

"Does he have it under control, Misty?"

She didn't answer. Her jaw clenched.

"Luke's a friend, but I don't support what he's doing and I won't get involved in that - but if *he* needs help - " Matt started.

"You can't be half in," Miles said quietly from above. "Not with a gang. You're all-in or nothing. You can't pick and choose what parts you want to be in - you're all-in or _nothing_. There's no gray area - not with that. Guy doing the books has just as much guilt on his hands as the ones with the guns. Sure, they'll give you a hand-up but that means you're on the ladder for good - _forever_."

Matt had missed something important but before he could disarm the landmine, Miles dropped to the floor and pulled back his mask.

Misty inhaled sharply. " **Miles**." Shit, how did _she_ know the _kid_? Fucking cops were going to be the death of him.

"You can't get involved, not if it's gang stuff," Miles said, turning his flaring emotion toward him. "You said there have to be boundaries - make this a boundary."

"Hold up - that's not what this is about at all - " Misty said.

"We just buried Uncle Aaron!" Miles blurted out in a burst of tears that Matt was not expecting. He instinctively wrapped his arms around the skinny kid to shield him from whatever set him off.

"Dammit, Murdock, what are you doing with Miles?"

"I'm trying to be nicer to law enforcement, which is why I called you instead of Cage. Now I'm in the middle of an emotional moment that I wasn't prepared for - " Matt said, patting Miles' back. He fumbled for a towel. "Come on, Kid, there's no crying in baseball."

"Shut up, what does that even mean," Miles choked into his shirt but there was a laugh buried underneath.

"I didn't know you knew Misty, or that you lost your uncle."

Miles took the towel and scrubbed at his face but stayed pressed against his size. "I didn't know you were friends with Luke Cage."

"He was dating my ex-girlfriend, I don't know if we would have ever been friends if we didn't save the city together," Matt said. "I don't want him to get killed or arrested if there's another option so I wanted to let **him** know what **I** know without having to talk to him."

Misty blinked at him. "Claire was never your girlfriend." That's what she got from his reassuring speech?

"Our love was beyond labels," Matt replied. "Plus, you don't know my life."

"She friend-zoned him," Miles said, his voice clearer without the tears. This kid knew too much.

"So hard," Matt had to agree anyway. "But none of that's the point - Luke's headed downhill fast - will he listen to you?"

Misty threw up her hands. "He hasn't so far, but what the hell - maybe you can loan me your little spider for a pep talk - "

"I'm not reenacting an after-school special, I'm just tired of my role models turning out to be secret bad guys. Dad said you quit the force because you could help people outside your jurisdiction not - " Miles started.

"I'll have to remember that excuse," Misty said. "But don't even ask what you're thinking. I'm not a part of Luke's business, but Matt's right - I can get in touch with him off the books - gang or police books, that is. Does Jeff know you're here?"

Miles' answer was muffled from where he gave her a hug without leaving a wet-spot of emotion. "I'm getting a class credit and Double D's finding ways to not teach me how to fight so Dad doesn't think I'm a failure."

"He's definitely not teaching you how to lie if that's your story," Misty said. "Change your clothes, I'll buy you both dinner to make up for all the accidental feelings that just went down."

"I should have used the three minute police limit for talking to you," Matt muttered and Miles laughed.

Misty waited until the kid ducked out to change to move closer. "I'll talk to Luke. Nelson's still his lawyer, right?"

"Yeah."

"Tell him to expect a call," Misty said.

* * *

Brett officially hated his life. He hated the world and his job and his team and his brain and his whole goddamn life.

He glanced around the cellar - not a basement or lower floor but an actual fucking cellar - and took note of the darkness and the muffled struggle of his team bound with the same ropes that kept his hands and feet immobile.

They had gotten sloppy with the gags in their rush to get out of the abandoned building and Brett could breathe and talk - he thought. He fired some reassurances at the others, wiggling his way to the Lieutenant's side to see if he was okay after the pistol whip to the face but he was breathing and blinking at him so Brett took a moment to think.

There was one thing he'd forgotten to hate in his moment of hating everything.

"I hate you, Daredevil, but if your bat-ears are listening, we could use an assist," Brett said out loud to the darkness. Jenkins had the audacity to laugh into her gag. "If you tell my mother, Jenkins, you're never getting that PTO approved."

He didn't time it, couldn't see his watch, but the Devil was indeed listening and dropped into the cellar a moment before a rickety ladder clunked into place like a fire escape.

"What happened?" Daredevil asked, taking in the room with a wary circle.

"Fake police call, they picked us off two at a time - took two of mine," Brett said.

"Everyone smells like gunpowder and blood, give me something to go on," Daredevil growled, flicking open a serrated blade and slashing Brett's ropes. He flipped the knife and offered the handle to him and Brett made sure all the officers saw the hand-off.

"I don't know - " Brett started but Spider-Man dropped down with the patrol car's big first aid kit and their gun belts. He also had a handful of flashlights that lit the space in uneven stripes.

"It's the blonde lady and the other rookie with the weird hair, right?" Spider-Man said. "The car radio used their call signs and the bad guys are probably listening since all your radios are missing."

"The one with the cat?" Daredevil asked. "Give me something else."

Murdock was blind. He had great hearing and could smell bombs.

"I have a cat," Jenkins said when he cut her free.

"Silva has a fish," Harris offered. "But I'm not sure why - "

"Vincent wears Axe body spray," Brett said and Daredevil flared his nostrils with a nod.

"So Silva's the one that hums Spice Girls all the time - she really wants those tickets when they play the Garden," Daredevil said, rolling back on his heels to get to his feet.

"Oh my God - how do you even know - " Harris started.

"Stay here, they're not far," Daredevil cut him off, moving toward the ladder.

"They're long gone, they had - "

"No, they're still here. They're in the parking lot trying to find a car that works," Daredevil said with a tic-tic-tic of his jaw. "It's - domestic. They want a specific address from one of yours."

Brett hissed. Not that he listened to gossip but everybody knew Vincent's big sister was married to a real bastard. She had finally accepted protective custody a few months back but the guy had been appropriately quiet about the whole thing.

"Why don't the cars work?" Brett asked.

"Practice," Spider-Man answered, distracting them long enough for Daredevil to make his exit. He sparked his fingers together. "Don't know if it'll short out the Hybrid I saw out there though, but we figured they'd try that last anyway."

"Are you in training?" Jenkins whispered to Spider-Man.

"No, if he crosses out of Hell's Kitchen, I take charge - but this is his turf," Spider-Man lied, but he had the answer prepared. His eyes narrowed on the mask and he tilted his head like his mentor. They were going to have to warn him about that if he was going to deny being a student. There was a distant finger snap and he motioned for them to go up. "Double tap, he's ready for you."

Daredevil was standing just inside the door. "Quick and quiet, stick to the shadows and get as close as you can. Lights will come up in five minutes - all their eyes should be on me."

"On it," Spider-Man tapped his watch and disappeared, apparently on the lights part of it.

One less thing to worry about. Brett nodded, leading Harris to the left while Jenkins headed to the left. They left Daredevil to his dramatic entrance. He didn't expect their truce to end up this way but here they were.

* * *

The takedown went smoother than most SWAT plans he'd been a part of but Brett would never - _ever ever_ \- admit it. The Devil scared the shit out of the thugs with his glowering snarls of vengeance and when the lights came up, the bad guys went down - hard.

Six guys were cuffed and curbed and none of the cops had to fire a gun. Brett wanted to consider it progress but needing to call in the Devil wasn't something he wanted to be known for.

" **Hey** ," Daredevil growled suddenly, reminding them all of his silent supervision. "Make very sure that this is how you want tonight to end. You can't take it back."

Brett had forgotten about Officer Vincent in the flurry of handcuffs and radio orders but the rookie's standing over his cuffed and unconscious brother-in-law with his service weapon trained on his head.

"If you're wearing a badge then they didn't give you the gun for that," Daredevil said, dropping his voice another notch. "You cross that line - you don't deserve it."

Vincent didn't look away from the immobile man on the ground but he slowly lowered the gun. He turned and held it out to Daredevil.

Daredevil 'looked' at the weapon with an annoyed sniff. "Keep it. If I ever cross the line, I expect someone to stop me - but it goes both ways."

Spider-Man blinked into the space beside Daredevil and caught his elbow. "Three minute rule, let's go, Double D. Cops make you cranky and we missed your snack time."

"Hey - " Brett called out. He held out the knife that Daredevil had passed him earlier.

"Oh, I need that," Daredevil said, tucking the knife away.

"Don't lecture my officers, that's my job," Brett said.

"Oh, that wasn't a lecture, he got off lucky," Spider-Man offered.

"You haven't heard the boss' lectures," Silva muttered, stepping in to walk her partner away from the Perp.

Daredevil rejoined Spider-Man and they walked easily into the shadows side by side. " _Sugar_ ," Daredevil growled.

 _"Yes, dear?_ " Spider-Man chirped.

 _"No, punk, I need sugar, where did you get that cherry Icee thing last week?"_ There was a 'thwip' and their voices drifted into the city. 

Harris shuffled over to him. "Think I figured out what's going on, Boss."

"Enlighten me," Brett replied.

"Spider-Man's teaching Daredevil how to work with the cops. That's gotta be it, right? Spider-People are always more helpful to law enforcement out there and the Devil's got experience with Fisk so I'm with Jenkins on the training but I think the Devil's the student."

"Well, nobody got killed or maimed tonight so maybe he'll get a gold star," Brett muttered.

* * *

"Hey Mom, hey Dad - I'm going upstairs - " Miles called when he got home for the weekend.

 _"Kitchen first!"_ His mom called back.

He smiled to himself, it had been three days since he saw her so a hug should be top priority.

He didn't process his father's panicked expression until too late and the welcome hug did not set off his Spidey-sense until she already wrapped her arms around him and pinned him in place. "Sit down, Spider-Man."

"Cosplay - it's just a - for school - " Miles tried to remember the plan, he totally had a script for this - but his dad raised his hands, cuffed in familiar web that definitely wasn't sold in stores.

"Do you want me to web you to the chair like your father or are you going to sit?"

He sat. "What happened?" he hissed to his dad.

His mom dropped the neatly folded Spider-Man suit and matching web-shooters on the table. "Talk."

"It's my backup suit - I was supposed to hide it somewhere nobody would think to look," Miles whispered.

"You had it under your mattress, didn't you?" his dad asked after a beat.

He dropped his head to the table.

His mother crossed her arms and it was worse than anything she could have said - she was so upset - he almost wished she would cry because that would be better than the arm cross of judgment.

"Honey - " his dad started.

"No - tell me what kind of trouble you're in that your father got you a lawyer - is the government after you or - " his mom demanded.

 **Oh**.

"You know about the volunteer work?" Miles asked carefully.

She turned her cold glare to his father who tried to shrink into his shoulders. "Is that what you're calling it, Jefferson?"

"He's a blind guy, I help him with blind stuff," Miles said, wincing and shutting up when she turned her gaze back to him.

"He took down Wilson Fisk - twice - before you decided to start 'cosplaying' - don't - does this lawyer know about Spider-Man?"

"I was trying to be proactive," his dad said. "He came highly recommended and I wasn't - sure how else to handle - "

"You don't bring in a stranger before you tell his mother," she snapped. "How do you know he's trustworthy?"

"He's - "

His mom raised her hand to silence him. "I want to meet him."

 _Oh no_.

"Your father and I are going to talk about all of - _this_ -" she motioned to the suit, "And I can't exactly ground you since you got a recognition letter from the school today - but I would like you to call your lawyer and tell him to be here at six and stay in your room until dinner."

Miles glanced at his dad. "I - don't want to leave a man behind. This isn't Dad's - "

"He's making decisions about your future without consulting me. Go upstairs and call your lawyer. You both might need legal counsel before the night's over," his mother warned and he gave his father an apologetic look and followed all her instructions.

* * *

Jefferson had no idea what Miles told Matt but the door buzzed at 5:50 and Rio glared at Miles when he started toward the door.

Murdock was in his rumpled lawyer outfit and Jeff hoped he wasn't going to slip in the whole farce since he'd spent the least time with this version of the guy.

Rio looked at his stick, his hand and finally took in his red glasses and ruffled hair from the walk. She made a soft sound of surprise and laughed out loud as she closed the door. "[Gatito](.)."

Matt's eyebrows went up in shock. "Nurse _Morales_?"

"[Podrías haberme dicho que estábamos cenando el diablo](.)," Rio said. "Come in, Mr. Murdock. I have a lot fewer questions about _why_ Jefferson decided to trust you with my son's - new hobby."

"How do you know each other?" Jefferson blurted out.

"He's Spork-guy," Rio said simply.

"That's a blatant lie, there's no proof - total urban legend," Matt protested, indignant.

Jeff shared a stunned look with Miles, ignoring Matt's sputtering. "Spork-guy. No **way**." It was one of Rio's most well-worn work stories.

"Never happened," Matt insisted.

"I worked at the urgent care out that way part-time," Rio said. "And you totally had nine sporks embedded in your back. Nueva. **Nine** Sporks."

"Do you know how hard that guy had to stab me to get those sporks through my suit - let alone my skin? Sporks are plastic, that whole week was _ridiculous_ ," Matt muttered.

"You never told us Spork-guy was Daredevil," Miles turned to his mom.

Rio shrugged. "The three women that he saved paid up front and and we didn't take his mask off until we were in a clear room." She nodded to Matt. "Charge nurse said you'd been in before when they had another 'Mexican' working the late shift and knew your allergies and eyesight problem even if you were under a different name."

"Claire's not Mexican," Matt frowned.

Rio shrugged. "Neither am I, but the charge nurse failed diversity training."

Matt made a thoughtful noise. "I never knew how I got there, I just remember thinking I should have spoken more Spanish to Claire when I was flirting with her."

"You said that out loud after we stuck you with morphine," Rio laughed. "Boss said all the emergency clinics in a five mile radius had a file on you. We had a lot of questions for the mysterious Claire in the staff room. She still fix you up?"

"Oh no, Claire has a lot of words for me that would be improper to repeat in front of Miles, but she's moved on," Matt said. "We email, or, I do, she mostly sends me pictures of animals with their heads stuck in trash cans according to the voice descriptions."

"So who fixes you up now?"

"Sister Maggie," Miles answered when Matt hesitated.

"You go to a nun for medical attention?" Rio asked after a beat of surprise.

"She's concerned about my identity, among other things. She gets - snippy if someone else does it. I don't get it but it's easier to just do what she wants," Matt replied, shrugging. "I trust her."

"Because she's a nun?' Jefferson asked.

"It's not something that we talk about because - so many reasons - but she's my mother," Matt said. "We're - very carefully trying to figure out what that means so I would appreciate - Miles - if you don't mention the Spork thing or the mother thing because I will deny both to the grave."

Miles was visibly shocked but recovered quickly. Jefferson didn't know if Matt's superpowers could tell. "No promises on the Spork thing, that story's legendary."

"Gatito, though?" Jefferson asked. Matt nor Daredevil gave off 'kitty cat' vibes."

"[Gato callejero](.)," Matt admitted. "Claire found me in a dumpster. It's none of your business, this meeting is not about me or my failed relationships - can we talk about all the other more pressing matters on the table tonight?"

"Oh yes, dinner's on the table, let's sit," Rio said. "We have a lot to discuss."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
> "Gatito" = "Kitty cat"
> 
> "Podrías haberme dicho que estábamos cenando el diablo" = "You could have just told me we were having the devil for dinner."
> 
> "Gato callejero" = "Stray cat"
> 
> This fic was so much fun. Thanks for taking the ride with me, all the comments and kudos are ♥. Hopefully I did justice to soft and pure bb Miles. I hope you all have pure and soft Sundays.
> 
> ([tumblr](https://wrtng-thngs-nd-stff.tumblr.com/))

**Author's Note:**

> Mentor =/= Mentee =/= Manatee =/= Yes okay sure whatever.


End file.
